


crowns

by tmrminewt (commodorenewt)



Category: The Maze Runner Series - James Dashner
Genre: Alternate Universe - Princess Diaries Fusion, Emotional/Psychological Abuse, M/M, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, Physical Abuse
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-07-07
Updated: 2016-11-02
Packaged: 2018-07-22 02:34:48
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 3
Words: 8,872
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7416196
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/commodorenewt/pseuds/tmrminewt
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p><b>mon·ar·chyˈmänərkē,ˈmänˌärkē/</b>
  <br/><span class="small">
    <i>noun</i>
  </span></p><ul>
<li><span class="small">a form of government with a monarch at the head.</span></li>
<li><span class="small">a state that has a monarch.</span></li>
</ul>
<p>
  <i>
    <span class="small">plural noun:</span>
  </i>
<br/>
  <b>
   monarchies </b>
</p><ul>
  <li>
    <span class="small">the monarch and royal family of a country.</span>
  </li>
</ul>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

>   
>  **notes:**  
> 
> 
>  
> 
> this was started a few months back. some of you might recognise this as the ask box fic sent to [@sarcasminho](https://tmblr.co/mBLUwG-Mm3jAOp5r4qFAFFQ). Haha. this hasn’t been betaread, so please forgive any mistakes. this was also supposed to be posted on minewt day but i procrastinated and didn’t get to finish the whole fic ;___; anyway, thank you for reading!!

Minho didn’t want to be there, that much was clear but no seemed to care. He was sitting on one of the armchairs in the foyer, waiting for the bloody throne stealing Lord to arrive. He would have remained seated if not for the arrival of his Grandmother and Jorge. His grandmother walked up to him, a big smile plastered on her face. “Be your charming self,” His grandmother told him. Minho certainly didn’t return her smile with a pout, no, he was a prince, he was above that (he totally did though). “They’re at the gates.”

“They’re trying to steal the throne.” Minho muttered under his breath. “I don’t see why I need to make nice with him.”

See, up until a week ago, he was the sole heir to the throne of their country. Up until a week ago, he didn’t have to worry about the line of succession; he didn’t have to worry about the Newton family stealing the throne from their family. Minho’s frown turned into a scowl, his eyes conveying the contempt he felt for this Lord Newton and his power-hungry Uncle. “They haven’t done anything wrong yet, my love.”

Minho looked at her, his eyebrow quirking up. “How is stealing the throne not wrong?” Minho asked.

“They won’t be stealing anything, trust me, Minho, they won’t.” She said with the fierce determination that made the tension in Minho’s shoulders ease a little. It was still there, but Minho can ignore it. Minho caught Jorge shooting his Grandmother a fond look, but the man caught his eye and quickly averted it to one of the personnel whom he walked up to a second later.

Minho sighed heavily. He didn’t really get why that Lord had to live there in the palace with them. Minho knew his grandmother knew what she was doing. He knew she wanted the best for the country and truly believes that Minho would be a good king. Minho didn’t want to acknowledge the small voice in his head that kept saying that not everyone believed he was up for the job, or he was worthy and the best option for King and now that he wasn’t the only one they can put in the throne, a lot of people would be relieved. “Why did you have to invite them to live here?” Minho asked, his voice calmer now than before.

“I didn’t invite them, I only invited Lord Newton to live here, his Uncle is not welcome.” She answered, pulling him in front of the mirror and started to fix his hair. “I invited him to live here because I want to know the man trying to steal my grandson’s birthright. If he’s anything like his Uncle, I’d like to know first of any schemes or plots he’ll be cooking.” She told him, turning Minho around to face her. “Now, be nice, alright?”

* * *

Newt sat next to Janson quietly, looking out the window occasionally. He couldn’t help the frown on his face as he thought back to the last time he thought of Janson as his Uncle. It’s been years since then. He was pulled out of his reverie with Janson’s hand digging in his side, making him sit straighter, and his head stand taller. “I introduced you as a king to be, act like it.” Janson spat, Newt didn’t dare to look at him, he didn’t have to, to know that there was a glare directed at him. “You’re no longer just a nobleman, you’re a king.”

Newt bit his tongue, stopping whatever smartass comment was about to come out his mouth. He looked out the window again. They were approaching the palace. He couldn’t help shift in his seat, he could feel Janson seething next to him. He didn’t know what Janson expected him, he was raised to be a king, but he never actually cared if he became one or not. “I don’t understand why I have to do this.” Newt almost reached up to cover his mouth, but it was already out. Janson’s temper was already flaring. “I don’t care about being king.” Newt wanted to slap himself, and clamp his mouth shut. Was he truly asking for a beating? Maybe.

His arm was grabbed and he could feel nails sinking in his sleeve, if it weren’t for the material of his jacket, he was sure that the nails would have already drawn blood. His arm was tugged, and a hand came up to force him to look at Janson. “Never say that again.” Janson hissed. Newt hated the fire in Janson’s eyes, it made him want to cringe back in his seat. Did he want Newt to rule or did he want to use Newt as his puppet? “Do you understand me?” Janson’s grip was getting tighter. “Never, not to anyone, do you understand?”

With each passing second that Newt remained quiet, the grip on his arm tightened even more. Janson shook him, forcing an answer out of him. “Yes, Uncle.” It took a lot of control to not spit it at him. “I understand.”

“This is your birthright, do you hear me, boy?” Janson let him go when they stopped at the bottom of the staircase of the palace. “This is your parents’ last request, do not dare disappoint them.” Janson’s gaze darted out the window before continuing. “You’re not a usurper; you are the rightful king of this country, not this wannabe Westerner.”

If Newt was braver and if they were home, Newt would have argued about the eligibility of the prince but he wasn’t and they weren’t. The door opened and Janson walked out, scolding the servants as he did. Newt followed suit, thanking the servant and expressed his apology for Janson’s pompous behavior through an exasperated smile. He wasn’t sure how the man took it though. Newt paused for a moment at the bottom of the steps, looking at the pillars then at the palace as a whole. He could swear he could hear chains clamping together and cells closing in a distance.

* * *

Minho was leaning against a pillar near the entrance of the foyer, waiting for Lord Janson and Lord Newton to arrive. He hoped this Young Lord was as pretty as the sole of his trekking shoes after trekking the mountains of the northern regions. He stuffed his hands in his pockets, smirking at the image. He didn’t notice his grandmother watching him though, he only realised this when she pinched her arm. “Be nice.” His grandmother told him. “We’re told that the Young Lord is more pleasant than his Uncle.”

Minho didn’t respond, he only kept listing the awful things he can call the lord in his head while they waited. He kept it up until the herald announced that the Lords have arrived, (Minho kept it up even after he did). Minho stood straighter, watching as the hall boys opened the doors. Minho sucked in a breath when the pair entered. The old man he assumed was Lord Janson and the younger man, trailing behind him was Lord Newton. So much for hoping that he wasn’t pretty. Minho mentally kicked himself.

Lord Janson bowed slightly at Minho before turning towards his grandmother. He took her hand and pressed a kiss on her ring.“Your Majesties.” Minho wondered if the Lord really respected him as the Prince of their country or he just felt it too much of a hassle to not to pay his respects. He stepped aside and let his nephew walk up to them. “I’d like to present my nephew, Lord Isaac Newton.” Minho knew he should have stopped it, but it was too late. He chortled at the name. He felt the eyes of his grandmother on him but he knew she was laughing too or at least amused by it. He saw Lord Newton’s eyes narrow for a fraction of a second; their eyes met and he really didn’t meant to be a dick, really. “Isaac.”

Lord Isaac Newton bowed, before paying his respects to him and his grandmother. “Actually, Your Majesties, I prefer to be called Newt.” He told them. “Thank you for inviting me to live in the palace, Your Highness, it is an honour.” Newt took a step back, meeting Minho’s grandmother’s smile with one of his own. “It’s nice to meet you Prince Minho as well, it’s rare for me to find someone my age in the crowd of Nobles.”

Minho’s grandmother smiled grew wider. “Of course, my boy.” She placed a hand on MInho’s arm. “May I present my grandson, Prince Minho.” Minho inclined his head, Lord Newt’s eyes met his. It didn’t waver under his. “We are pleased to welcome you in our home.”

* * *

It felt like forever before Lord Janson left. Janson kept putting his departure off through discussing matters of state with Minho’s grandmother. She kept telling him to bring it up during the next council meeting. It wasn’t until Lord Newt told his Uncle that it was time to go that he did take his leave. They stood outside while they watched Janson wrap his arms around the younger Lord, Newt’s arms remained glued to his side though. There was something in his body language that made Minho uncomfortable. He wasn’t sure what it was but Newt didn’t look comfortable in his Uncle’s arms. They watched the car drove off and after that, they showed Lord Newt to his room.

Minho realised that his room was in the same wing as Lord Newt’s. “Lord Newt, I hope your room is to your liking.” His grandmother said to Lord Newt. “My sources say that you’re very private. They had a hard time getting information regarding your interests.”

“Please, Your Majesty, forego the Lord, and just call me Newt.” He told her. “I do try to keep my affairs as private as possible; as Prince Minho is aware, the Press can be quite vindictive in their reporting.” Minho had a distinct feeling that ‘Newt’ knew about the few incidents in America where he was portrayed as a party playboy. It was just a story blown out of proportions by the media and those little shits at his high school. He glared at him, Newt only smiled at him. He wasn’t sure if that was a dig on his personality or not. The Young Lord didn’t seem like his Uncle unless this was an act. “But I try my best to be accessible to everyone and anyone who has questions about myself.”

They arrived at Newt’s room. It was just a few rooms from Minho’s quarters and the Prince wasn’t exactly pleased. Did Minho's Grandmother think they’d become friends? Fat chance of that happening. Minho watched as Newt looked around his room. It wasn't as big as his but it was big, spacious and had the same lay out Minho’s. But it lacked the personal flare that his had.

A few moments later, Jorge rushed in, walking straight to the Queen. Minho inched closer to listen in. “Lord Janson arranged a session today.” Minho heard Jorge whisper. His grandmother frowned, “The Lords will arrive soon, Your Majesty.”

She sighed, long suffering before nodding. “I will be there in a minute.” She waived him off, turning towards the heirs to the throne. “I’m sorry to cut this short, but I have to go. I leave you in the care of my grandson, Newt.”

“Oh.” Newt nodded. “Thank you, Your Majesty.”

“Don't worry Lord Newt, the Prince is more than capable to show you around the palace.” Jorge said, waggling his eyebrows at Minho. “Have fun boys.”

Minho scowled at Jorge, and as soon as the Queen’s back was turned, the Prince flipped the loyal bodyguard off. Newt hid a snicker behind his hand. “So you're not always the Prince charming the media has portrayed you out to be.” Newt said as soon as they were gone. Minho’s eyebrow quirked up, crossing his arms over his chest. “It's not necessarily a bad thing, of course, nor is it unexpected, but it’s always fascinating to start seeing what’s the illusion and what's real.”

An invisible tick appeared on the back of Minho's head. “I am always myself.” Minho sneered at him. “I can’t say the same about you though.”

Newt smirked. Minho wanted to slap it off his attractive face. “Now, I have to say that you can’t possibly know that.” Newt’s smirk turned into a smile, Minho noticed that it wasn’t like the smiles he’s given to his Grandmother. “You’ve never even knew of me until last week.” Newt shrugged. “Ample time to get information about me, my credentials, but not enough to know who I portray to be.” Newt’s features softened, somewhat. “But don’t worry; we can rectify that, can’t we? We have time to get to know each other.”

Minho snorted, shaking his head. “And who said I wanted to get to know you?”

“Well, I would never assume but I do want to get to know you.” Newt shrugged. “You getting a tad defensive tells me volumes though.” Minho wanted to wipe the smug expression off his smug face. Whether it is by a punch or something else as equally painful was still undecided. “I believe your grandmother told you to show me around my new abode?”

“Don't get too comfortable.” Minho muttered his breath. Newt chuckled, and Minho could swear he heard Newt say something like 'I don't plan to’ but when he looked over his shoulder, he was looking at the paintings on the wall.


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> notes:
> 
>   * **warning for slurs, physical abuse, hints of emotional abuse and mild violence.**
> 


Newt was holding on to one of the darts, watching Janson pace around his parlour at the corner of his eye. He was honestly getting dizzy from watching him. Why was Newt even here? He hasn’t even been in the palace for 3 days, what does Janson expect him to report now? “They haven’t mistreated you?” Janson asked, looking at his nephew.

Newt rolled his eyes at the question. “Depends on how you define mistreated.* Newt muttered under his breath but he knew Janson heard him. He chanced a glance at the old man and found him scowling at him. Newt’s blood ran cold. Janson didn’t say anything for a few moments before he continued pacing. The tension in Newt's shoulders didn’t disappear. “Why do you keep asking me that?”

Janson shook his head. “Do you know who is first in line to the throne?” If it were anyone other than Janson, Newt would have answered sarcastically. It was Prince Minho’s throne, he knew that, Janson knew that, almost everyone in the entire country knew that. But at another angle, people would say that Newt was next in line, that was a rare point of view though. “To be frank, there is no good reason why the Lords of Genovia will overlook the Prince and put you on that throne.” Janson told him. “No solid reason, that is.”

Newt also knew that. “Then why push me to claim it?” Newt couldn’t help but ask.

Janson’s face contorted. “Because I will rot in hell first before I see my country fall into the hands of a filthy half breed Yankee.” Janson spat.

Newt pinched the bridge of his nose. Why does he subject himself to this? He huffed out a breath. “And what’s your plan? You can’t play the age card because for one, he is older than me and second, he is off age, Genovian law sees him as a man, as such he is not required to undergo the sacrament of Matrimony. Based from available information, he’s capable in handling the job. The lords have no reason to choose me over him.”

“Says you and those trashy American Magazines you choose to rot your mind with.” Janson said in distaste. “You will be the next king, Isaac, mark my words.” Janson mused. Newt thought he looked like a super villain planning the demise of the superhero “I will make sure of it.”

Newt rolled his eyes again for the nth time that afternoon. He turned back to dartboard. He raised his arm to aim before throwing it. Newt remembered all the times he was taken to this room as well as the first time Janson brought him home. His parents just died, Janson just became his Guardian and the man took it upon himself to tell him of his birthright. Newt had also asked how Janson planned on doing it.

_ "Uncle, how will I become king?” Newt asked, looking up at his Uncle. _

_ Janson smirked, looking at his nephew before grabbing a dart. “This is a philosophy I learned from an Italian Philosopher.” Janson told him, he drew his hand. “I can make this dart hit the target every time.” Newt’s eyes widened because he didn’t think anyone was capable of that. He watched his uncle’s movement intently, hoping he can learn it until, Janson cried out and ran towards the dartboard. _

_ “BUT UNCLE JANSON THAT’S CHEATING!” Newt cried, feeling disappointed because it’s bad to cheat, he remembered his mum tell him that. _

_“Exactly, my boy.” Janson smirked._

* * *

 

Newt perched himself over the railing of the veranda, watching the Prince practice shooting the arrow through the rings. They’ve been there for an hour already and Minho had managed to shoot the arrow through them for at least 10 times. Minho took another arrow from his mentor and shot it through the air without much preamble. Newt followed it as it arched in the air, and disappeared through the rings. Minho made it look so easy. Newt pursed his lips as Minho turned towards the palace and their eyes met.

Normally, if it were anyone, Newt would have inclined his head in acknowledgement but the Prince was fun to rile up. He grinned at him which the monarch returned with a frown. Newt almost laughed at how predictable the prince was. Newt blew him a kiss in retaliation which only made the frown deepen on the prince’s face. Newt looked down, covering his mouth to hide the smile forming on his lips. He could feel the intensity of Minho's glare at him and Newt was suddenly too aware of the bow and arrow in the Prince's hands.

He was too engrossed in ogling the Prince that he didn’t hear someone approaching him. “You really shouldn’t egg him on too much.” Newt jumped, gripping the stone railing as he realised how far he was from the ground below. The fear of falling hit him, and made him slightly unstable. He whipped his head around and found young Charles or Chuck standing there. The young lad was one of the bodyguards that the Queen and the head of her security have given him. “I don’t think I can attack him if he decides to, you know, attack you.”

Newt snorted. He stood up, and turned towards his bodyguard. Hid arms crossed over his chest, a frown that looked more like a pout on his lips. “And what makes you think I need you protecting me from him?” Newt asked, his eyebrow quirking up. “Do you think I'm someone who waits for a knight to save them?”

Chuck’s eye widened, shaking his head. “That’s not… I didn't mean…” Chuck began to stammer. “I… I don’t mean it like that!” Chuck told him. “It's my job to protect you. I have to do a good job.”

“You’re are as much fun to rile up as the Prince, Chuckie, I'm joking.” Newt rolled his eyes, squeezing his shoulder. He turned back to the Prince. Minho was no longer shooting through the rings. He had bull's eye that the instructor must have set up. Newt watched as the Prince pulled the arrow back. Chuck moved to stand next to him. “Don’t remove my only source of amusement,”

Chuck sighed. “You have too much fun pestering him.” Chuck grumbled. Newt pushed off the railing. He patted Chuck’s shoulder as he passed him. He went down the steps and wandered over to where Minho was practising. Chuck's eyes widened, making him rush after the Lord. “Why did they have to give me you.” Chuck grumbled as he went over to them.

* * *

 

Minho tried to focus on the target and not the figure walking up to him. “You’re a sharpshooter.” The figure commented. Minho followed the arrow and smirked when it hit the target.

“Shouldn’t you be inside?” Minho asked, not bothering to spare him a glance. He took another arrow.

Minho could see him shrug in his peripheral vision. “Why should I be inside?” Newt asked.

“Aren’t you usually reading or something?” Minho glanced at him. “Got bored? Or did you miss me?” Minho smirked.

Newt pursed his lips, “And why can't it be both?” Newt asked, tilting his head to the side.

Minho opened his mouth, but his brain processed what Newt answered. That wasn’t the answer he was expecting. Minho hadn’t realised how close the young Lord had gotten until he was bumping him out of the way to try his hand at archery.

He drew the arrow a little too high. Minho made a noise at the back of his throat. Newt looked at him, “What?”he asked. Minho toook a step closer to him and fixed Newt’s arms. He lowered them a little. Newt didn’t seem to mind or well, Minho assumed he didn’t mind since he let him do it. He checked on Newt’s grip, curling his hand over Newt’s, making Newt tighten his grip on the bow. “Such a strict teacher.” Newt mused.

Minho frowned, suddenly remembering who this guy was and why he didn’t like him. “Just shoot it.” Minho grumbled, taking a step back. Newt smirked before looking back at the target. He released the arrow and it landed next to the prince’s last shot. It was near the target.

“Do you mind if I try again?” Newt asked.

“I’m not helping you again.” Minho told him.

“I don’t expect you to, Your Highness.” Newt smirked. He took another arrow and drew it back again. He was in proper form and all. He released the arrow, and Newt turned towards him, not bothering to look at the bull’s eye.

Minho scowled at him. “Did you just pretend not to know how?” Minho asked.

Newt snorted and shrugged. “Maybe I’m a fast learner.” He winked at Minho and handed him the bow. “You should really widen your stance though.” Newt wanted to tell him not narrow his eyes so much or frown so much, that will give a lot of wrinkles. Not to mention he couldn't tell if Minho was glaring at him or just closing his eyes. Minho crossed his arms over his chest. Did he say that out loud? Or was he displeased that he is in his presence… Newt never knows with him. “Relax, Prince Minho, you need to loosen up. We can’t have our King have wrinkles before he turns 30, now can we?” Newt smirked which the Monarch responded with a roll of his eyes.

“Then don’t piss me off.” Minho snapped.

Newt’s smirk grew. “How do you suggest I do that?” Newt asked. “I think I manage to piss you off just by breathing.”

Minho shook his head, snorting. “Actually, it’s only just when you open your mouth and make words come out.”

“Oh, you mean talking?” Newt asked, his smirk turned into an amused grin. Minho’s scowl deepened. “You just described what talking is.”

Minho glared at him. He didn’t bother responding. He turned on his heel and left Newt there. Newt couldn’t help the amused grin forming on his face. He picked up the extra bow and took another arrow, drawing it. “ _Isaac!_ ” Newt heard a familiar voice bellow. He accidentally released the arrow and fortunately, it hit a tree and not an innocent bystander, that really wouldn’t do any good for his reputation. He wouldn’t know how to get out of that one. He turned around and saw Janson stalking towards him. He was quick in coming down the steps. Newt was suddenly grateful that he managed to piss MInho off once again. Once he was near enough, Janson gripped Newt’s arm tightly. He could swear the circulation in his arm stopped. He was pulled into a more private spot in the gardens, not loosening the grip as they walked across the garden.

Newt knew Janson didn’t approve of him being friendly with Minho or any of his friends but he can’t actually live there and be pariah, now can he? “Did I do something to displease you, Uncle?” Newt asked, subtly trying the grip loosen which only resulted for the opposite to happen.

Janson huffed. “What the hell are you doing being friendly with him?” He hissed.

Newt knew he should have kept his mouth shut, he knew it was best to keep his thoughts to himself. “I’m not allowed to make friends?” Newt asked. Though Newt expected the slap, the sting of Janson’s hand hitting his face still made him wince, but it wasn’t something he wasn’t familiar with. He only hoped no one saw. “He’s harmless, Uncle.”

“Harmless?” Janson asked, incredulous. “You can’t possibly believe that, Nephew. I did not raise you to be so naive!”

Newt wanted to scoff at the insinuation that Janson raised him. He took him in, yes but raised him? Maybe when it came disciplining him, Janson was a very active participant then but other than that?. Newt wanted to argue, but he knew it would fall on deaf ears. “He’s harmless, Uncle.” Newt repeated, Janson’s hand rose once again. “He’s not much of a threat.” He said quickly, trying to squirm out of the grip “He’s a decent person. He seems driven to lead this country to greatness. He might be a good king.” Newt knew that every word that came out of his mouth increased the force that Janson will use at the hand coming down on him once again. Newt was surprised that his arm hasn’t been pulled off the socket with the way Janson was gripping it. It was as if the grip would wake him up and make him take everything he’s said.

“A good king? Ha!” Janson mocked. His eyes narrowed at him. “Are you attracted to him?” Janson asked. Newt could swear his arm was dead. It was numb. “Haven’t you gotten over that perversion of yours? Hasn’t it been drilled in your head that that isn’t natural?”

_It wasn’t a perversion. It is not._ He wanted to say but he couldn't bring himself to speak it. “You’re going to leave bruises.” Newt says instead, quietly. He was pretty sure that he already has them though.

Janson’s expression cleared, as if remembering where they were. He let him go and took a step back. He dusted off the invisible dirt off his suit. “You can’t fall for their tricks.” Janson told him, his eyes meeting Newt’s. “Do I need to remind you why you need to claim the throne?” Newt gritted his teeth and shook his head. “My beautiful sister, holding you in her arms… in her last breath, did she waste it? Did she waste it asking me to make sure you fulfill your destiny to be the King?” Janson almost looked sad and reminiscent, if it weren’t for the horns and tail that Newt imagined him to have. But even so, the words reached him and he can’t help but feel the pang of guilt that hit his heart. “You’ve already disgraced their memory once, how can you even stomach thinking of failing them once again?”

Newt looked at the ground; “I’m not.” Newt said quietly. “I’m not thinking of failing them once again.”

Jansons made him look up, meeting his eyes. “Good.” Janson told him, taking a step back.

“Is there a reason why you’re here, Uncle?” Newt asked, looking at the older man. He hoped his tone was softer and hopefully, he sounded and appeared meek, seeing that Janson didn’t grip his arm, he supposed he was successful. “Is the Parliament in session today?” Newt asked.

“Yes, we are.” Janson smirked, the twinkle in his eyes made Newt’s heart grow cold. Janson’s eyes crinkled in the corner and it made Newt more uncomfortable. “We will be discussing how this power crisis will be handled.” Janson informed him.

“They’re really considering my claim?” Newt asked, quite surprised by the news. He didn’t expect the parliament to really take Janson seriously because… well, he is Janson. He wasn’t exactly the nicest person and although he had good intentions, there was no doubt that he also had his own agenda and he had no qualms in using anything or anyone to get what he wanted.

“It is a legitimate claim, my boy.” Janson rolled his eyes at him. He eyed his nephew’s closed, shaking his head at the wrinkle on his sleeve. “I’ll be leaving right after the session; I might not see you later.” Janson squeezed his arm again, drawing his attention back. Yep, there’s a bruise there. “Don’t forget why you’re here, boy.” Janson warned. He left him there and entered the palace once again.

Newt leaned back on the wall, pulling his sleeve up to look at his arm. “What happened?” He heard someone ask. Newt instinctively stood straighter, hiding his arm behind his back. He looked at the source and found Chuck standing a few metres from him. Newt shook his head, no sarcastic comment accompanying it. The silence made Chuck’s eyebrows furrow. “What happened to your arm?”

Newt bit his bottom lip and shook his head. “I’m fine, Chuckie, it’s fine.” Newt told him, taking a step farther away from his bodyguard. “Nothing happened.” Newt flashed him a grin but his cheeks were swollen, he looked down. “Would you mind getting a pair of ice packs?”

Chuck frowned, moving closer. “He hit you.” Newt took a step back. “Is that all you need?”

“I’d also need and very much appreciate it if you kept this between us.” Newt told him.

“But,” Chuck started to say. “But… it’s not right.”

Newt shook his head, yes it wasn’t right, but… He took a deep breath and walked over to the boy. He placed his hands on his shoulders, squeezing it lightly. “Don’t tell anyone.” Newt ruffled his hair and pushed past him. “It’s not anyone’s business but my own.” He could faintly hear Chuck make a sound of protest behind him. “That’s an order, Charles.”

It’s didn’t go beyond the gripping, the slapping, the occasional nails in his skin, it never did and Newt had experienced it for so long that he’d learned to deal and live with it. “But…” Chuck started to say again but closed his mouth when Newt threw him a glare. Newt didn’t need to know that he wasn’t supposed to be treated like that by anyone much less Janson, his Uncle.

Newt smiled at him, “I’ll be in my room waiting for those ice packs, do hurry. We don’t want anyone to see my pretty face messed up, do we?”


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I apologise for the long wait for this chapter. Hope its worth the wait guys!!
> 
> for [caritivereflection](https://caritivereflection.tumblr.com). Happy birthday lovee!!

Newt was in the gardens, eating brunch while reading the newspaper when the Queen sought him out. The Queen stepped outside and Newt immediately stood and bowed. She smiled and inclined her head in acknowledgement. “Might I have a moment of your time, Newt?” The Queen asked, inclining her head to the chair opposite him. Newt nodded, moving to pull it out for her but Jorge beat him to it. “I trust you’re enjoying your stay here then?” The Queen’s smile was pleasant and genuine. Newt sat back down.

Newt folded the paper properly before placing it next to his glass. “It’s been pleasant, Your Majesty.” Newt answered, a genuine smile gracing his face as well. “Everyone’s been warm and welcoming.” Newt told her. “Young Charles, has been a pleasant change of security, I have to admit. He’s not like my old head of bodyguards, he actually talks to me and not just standing there like a statue.”

The Queen’s eyes crinkled at the corner. “I’m glad, but were you expecting them not to be?” The Queen asked, her head tilting slightly to the side and her eyebrow quirking up.

“Am I allowed to speak freely, Your Majesty?” Newt asked. The Queen nodded slightly. “If you forgive my bluntness, I would understand if they weren’t, I am no fool to think that I’m a welcomed guest. I am, after all, in their eyes trying to steal the crown from the rightful King.”

The butler placed a cup of tea in front of the Queen. “Ah, well, yes, I suppose I can understand that.” The Queen smiled at the butler, waving him off. “I sought you out for something other than asking how you’re faring here, I hope you don’t mind.”

“Not at all, how can I be of service, Your Majesty?” Newt asked.

The Queen placed her spoon on the side and smiled. “I hear you’re quite close to Alby Einstein.”

“He’s my best friend.” Newt said proudly. “Has he done something wrong?”

“No, no, it’s not that.” The Queen shook her head. “As you know, the Genovian ball is just around the corner. My grandson has never been a dancer, and well, I was hoping if you could ask Mr. Einstein to teach Minho how to dance?”

“Oh,” Newt pursed his lips. “I thought Jorge was teaching him?” Newt asked.

The Queen smiled, “Yes, he was, but… you’ve seen them.” Her tone was exasperated but her eyes looked fond. “Leave them alone for an extended period of time… they’d end up on the floor, bruised  and possibly bloodied.” The Queens sighed and Newt wondered how she can manage to make it look so dignified. “He’ll be compensated for his services, of course.”

“I have noticed that they’ve been at each other’s throats whenever I find them together.” Newt commented, “It’s no trouble at all, Your Majesty. I’m sure Alby would be happy to do it, even for free.”

The Queen smiled. “If Mr. Einstein’s schedule allows it, I would like his lessons to start this week.”

Newt glanced at his watch. “Since it's still early, I can go to his estate and ask him, Your Highness. You’ll have an answer by tonight.”

“Oh, you don’t need to do it today, you can go when you’re free…”

“I don’t have anything planned today, Your Highness, it wouldn’t be any trouble at all.” Newt told her. _I'm practically a social pariah nowadays,_ Newt thought, _a power-hungry Demon like dear old Janson is._

* * *

On the other side of the Palace, Chuck was walking Newt’s dog, Alexi. As much as he liked doing things for Newt, walking his dog can be a big pain in the ass. The big furry dog loved making Chuck run after him and Newt wasn’t inclined in making him stop. Chuck soon realized that Newt often went on a walk in the middle of the night and it was usually after midnight. He had lost count of the times he was woken up by one of the evening guards to inform him about his ward’s activities. Chuck had always resented the man for it but after witnessing the meeting with his Uncle a few days ago, all he could feel towards the man was protectiveness and something he was sure Newt would kill him for feeling, pity. For someone so nice (and quite a low self-esteem), he had a lot of pride.

Whenever Chuck was forced out of bed due to Newt, he’d head to the garden and find Newt and Alexi by the fountain. Alexi would be running around, chasing something while Newt would be looking at the sky, looking somber and melancholy. He once told Chuck that this was the only time he could think. Chuck wondered if that was true, he also wondered if Newt knew that he didn’t deserve what Janson was doing to him. 

Newt was a nice guy, sure; but it can’t be denied that he can also act like a prick and a dick to those who didn’t find amusing or worth his time. But that didn’t make him anything like this Uncle. Lord Janson was the epitome of dickishness in Chuck’s mind. The memories of Newt’s bruises after his meeting Janson was still fresh in his mind. He wanted to forget like Newt requested but how can he? If he could, he’d reach out to Jorge or someone… to help the young Lord. But Newt didn’t want it and he wasn’t sure how to proceed with the situation.

After a while, Chuck was still stuck in his thoughts that he didn’t notice the leash slowly slipping through his fingers until it was too late. Chuck tried to grab on it but the big ball of fur with legs was too fast and was already out of grasp. “Alexi!” Chuck called, breaking in to a run to follow the dog.

Minho was walking past the hallway when Chuck ran straight at him. It was like running a solid wall, Chuck fell back, falling on his ass. Alexi ran back to him, barking happily and when Chuck opened his eyes, the dog was beside him, nudging his cheek with his snout. It was like he was apologizing, Chuck didn’t know if he should be endeared or not. Bloody Dog. 

Minho crouched down to pet the animal. “I didn’t know you had a dog.” Minho scratched the back of Alexi’s ears. “What’s his name?” The dog laid down on the floor, prompting Minho to scratch his belly.

Chuck got up, glaring at Alexi who was enjoying the tummy rub Minho was giving him. “His name’s Alexi, he’s not mine.”

“Who does he belong to then?” Minho asked, he had half a mind to take the dog off Chuck’s hands. Chuck looked like he was having a hard time keeping the dog in line. “He’s so cute.” Alexi turned his head towards Minho, growling. MInho smirked. “Pretty?” He tried but the dog growled again. “Handsome?” Minho smiled when the dog laid back down, returning to his position earlier.

“He’s Lord…” Chuck began to say.

“Alexi! Come!” An irritatingly familiar voice called. Minho looked over his shoulder and found Isaac Newton walking towards them. Alexi quickly got on his feet and ran towards the blonde. The dog barked happily as Newt crouched down and petted him. “You didn’t give Young Charles a hard time, did you darling?” They heard Newt ask the dog.

Chuck huffed out a breath next to him. “We were heading to you, but he ran off…” Chuck began to explain but trailed off. “I thought you were going to walk Alexi outside?”

“I was supposed to but change of plans, Chuckie.” Newt said, ruffling the boy’s hair. “We’re going for a drive and we’ll drop Alexi off earlier than expected at the hospital.” The dog whined, nipping Newt’s pants. “Oh darling, I know but you want to get better, yes?” He looked at Minho, a brilliant smile on his face. “Good Morning, Your Highness.”

“It was good until I saw you.” Minho said bluntly.

The corner of Newt’s lips twitched at Minho’s response. He chuckled, patting his cheek as he passed the monarch. Minho would have grabbed the limb and lashed out on Newt, because how dare he touch him. “Oh come now, Prince Minho, I know seeing me has become the highlight of your days.” Minho opened his mouth to retort but Newt shook his head as he raised his hand to waive goodbye “How do you Americans say it? Catch you later?” Newt walked away with Chuck and his dog trailing behind him.

Alby was quite surprised to find his best friend at the door. He was sure Newt told him that he wouldn’t visit for some time. “And to what do I owe the pleasure?” Alby asked, leaning against his door sill. “I thought you’d be too busy stealing the throne to come visit my humble abode.”

“Being a Villain is tiring, I don’t know how Janson does it.” Newt pushed past him.

Alby snorted, shaking his head. “That’s cause that Uncle of yours is the Devil Incarnate.” Alby looked at the boy Newt left standing there. “Uhh, are you with him?” Alby asked, his eyebrow quirking up. The boy nodded. “Ah, wait, you’re Chuck?”

“He’s told you about me?” Chuck asked, a little surprised.

“That prick tells me everything, unfortunately… except this visit.” Alby pulled him inside. “Do you have any idea why he’s here?”

“I think the Queen asked him something… I’m not really sure.” Chuck told him.

“Hey Alby, don’t you have anything stronger than this?” Newt asked loudly.

Alby sighed, rolling his eyes. “Come on, make yourself at home. Mi casa es su casa.” Alby squeezed his shoulder before going in the room where Newt disappeared into. “Are we sure we wanna drink this early in the morning?” He heard Alby ask.

“There’s no such thing as too early.” Chuck heard Newt drawl. “God, this tastes atrocious, what the fuck is this?”

“It’s one of Ben’s experimental drinks. He and a friend he met on Tumblr were exchanging recipes.” Alby told him. “It doesn’t taste that bad.”

“It doesn’t taste that bad… right, and the reason why it’s still here is because…” Chuck came in and found Newt raiding Alby’s liquor cabinet. “I miss my summer house, when all of this is done, remind me to never answer my Uncle’s calls."

“If you manage to survive this plot of your Uncle’s then I’ll be happy too.” Alby told him. “Have you come up with a plan?”

* * *

Minho glared at the computer as Thomas read an article he found about Isaac Newton. “Dude, how exactly can you _hate_ him? He’s exactly your type?” Thomas asked. “I don’t know him personally, sure but dude, he’s something nice to look at.”

“He’s not _some **thing**_.” Minho grumbled. “He breathes, talks and moves.”

“Okay, it says here that he’s one of the most eligible bachelors in Genovia.” Minho snorted at that. “They also say that he really has royal blood in his veins but they weren’t sure if he was eligible for the throne.” Minho rolled his eyes. “His parents died when he was 7 years old, Lord Janson, the brother of his mother, took him in after that.” Thomas looked at him. “That’s tragic, man.”

“No wonder he’s a dick.” Minho said, opening the link Thomas sent.

“Dude, you just learned his parents died, it wouldn’t hurt to feel some sympathy for the dude.” Minho didn’t have to look at Thomas to know that there was a frown on his face. Minho was tempted to look outside his window to see if the world was coming to an end because Thomas, who was the epitome of tactlessness and insensitivity, was lecturing him about being sympathy and empathy. 

But Thomas was right (something he would never admit to the shank), he should be more sympathetic but he wasn’t referring to his parents’ dying but to him being taken in by Janson at such a young age, from their brief interactions in the parliament meetings he’s attended the past few weeks, he can see that Janson was a dick. Growing up around someone like that… it would have left a big impression on someone. “He’s really cute though, dude.”

Minho’s eyes narrowed. “He’s really not.” Minho replied immediately.

Thomas looked at him, a little skeptical. “Whatever you say, man. We’re staring at a picture of him and even Sonya says that’s he’s cute.” Thomas told him seriously. Minho rolled his eyes again because like whatever they said was valid. “He looks young too, are you guys sure that he’s 21?”

“I’ve noticed he looks young, it’s the genes, I think.” He wasn’t sure how their discussion of their accommodations when they come visit went to the Young Lord sleeping a few doors away from him but it did and now Thomas was pestering him about it. “Dude, why are we even talking about him?” Minho asked before Thomas could open his mouth again about Newt. “You planning on breaking things off with Gally?”

“What? No! Shut up, dude, I think if things come to that, Gally would have a better chance with Isaac Newton than I do.” Thomas flipped him off. “Besides, he wants to steal your crown.” Thomas’ eyes averted away from the camera again. “I think it won’t hurt to get to know him. Know what they say, ‘know thy enemy’. Or you know, ‘keep your friends, and your enemies closer’.”

“Minho isn’t capable of that high level thinking, you know that.” Teresa said, as she passed by.

“Fuck you, Agnes!” Minho yelled at her which she responded with a smile before sending him a flying kiss. She left the room when Thomas gave her his phone. “I know I should get to know him but I’m doing a fine job at that.” Minho looked out the window and found Newt and Chuck arriving. Alexi, Newt’s dog, just ran out of the car and headed to the gardens. Chuck ran after him. “I don’t think he’s _that_ complicated.”

“Says you.” Thomas says and Minho knows that he was rolling his eyes. “You’re not exactly a good judge of character, man.”

“And you are?” Minho asks. “You thought Gally was straight until he kissed you in front of the whole school.”

The door opened and Gally walked through just in time to hear Minho say that. “Why are you guys talking about that again?” He walked over to Thomas and waved at Minho. “Who’s Isaac Newton? Is he your new guy?” Gally asked.

Thomas laughed, “No, Minho’s denying it and labeling him as his arch nemesis.” Thomas told him. “He’s cute, right?”

Gally nodded. “Yeah, bro. You should go for it.”

* * *

“Remind me again why I’m here.” Alby said, plugging in the sound system before looking at Newt. “Because I seem to recall refusing.”

“Because you’re my best friend and you love me?” Newt grinned as he looked at his watch. “Besides, the Queen personally requested you to teach her grandson how to dance. You can't refuse a request from the Queen, Alby.”

“I didn’t know the palace had a Dance Studio.” Alby was stretching his legs beside Newt, looking at his reflection while his best friend, lifted himself to sit on the bar. “So how is life living in this place? I expect they’re being terribly pleasant towards you?”

“Should we be discussing that here?” Newt asked him. He nods though. “It’s a little unnerving. Nothing I didn’t expect but I expected to feel... unwelcome.” Newt told him. “So far, it’s only the prince who thinks I should bury myself underground. He doesn’t bother to hide it and it’s amusing.” Newt chuckled. “I don’t know if anything will come out of this, I don’t know if I’ll be king or I’ll be branded a failed Usurper, I suppose I’m only glad that the practice of taking heads is no longer done because if I do fail, I’d hate to see my bloody head detached from my body.”

Alby shoved him, giving him a look that made Newt feel slightly guilty. “Where is the prince? I thought he’ll be here by now?”

* * *

"Why haven't you gone in yet?" Minho whipped around and found Chuck there. "Sorry, did I scare you?" Minho gave him a pointed look.

"I'm waiting for Isaac Newton to leave the room." Minho said, moving away from the door. "What's he doing in there anyway? How did he get there before I did?" Minho asked, looking at the bodyguard expectantly. "Is he flirting with my dance instructor?"

"What?" He heard a familiar voice ask. "Flirt with Alby? God, that's disgusting."

Minho turned around to look at the pair blocking the entrance of the dance studio. The man next to Newt must have been the dance instructor, 'Alby'. "You did try to flirt with me the first time we met." The dance instructor reminded him.

"Impossible. We met when we were 3." Newt frowned at him. "You're practically my brother. Flirting with you will be strange.”

Alby shrugged and turned towards Minho. "It's an honour to meet you, Your Grace." Alby offered his hand to shake. "Newt hasn't been able to shut his mouth about you, it's quite endearing." Alby said, ignoring Newt's undignified squawk. "I'm Alby and I'll be teaching you today."

* * *

Alby apparently asked Newt to be there. Newt refused at first (Minho didn’t believe that the evil shank refused) but Alby insisted (he didn't believe that either). And even with Newt’s disruptive presence, Minho was able to absorb a few things from the instructor. So far, Alby was a good teacher. He also seemed like a good person, well, basing it from what Newt has been yammering about since they began.

From what Newt tells him, who he tries to ignore, Alby’s family is in the performing arts industry. Alby helps with teaching at their performing arts school and at the side, he works with kids in Orphanages as well. “You’re like my walking resume, aren’t you?” Alby smirked at his best friend. Newt rolled his eyes and continued telling Minho about one of the kids that Alby worked with. “Don’t let him fool you,” Alby said, low enough for only Minho to hear. “He usually comes with me when I volunteer.”

Newt and Alby exchanged insults like they were talking about the weather. It reminded him of his friendship with Thomas. The insults held no real bite. Newt can give as good as he gets and sometimes, he would win and it would have Alby rolling his eyes at him. Minho wasn’t watching them interact in between positions, it was just a passing observation from a person totally not watching them. Seeing as he wasn’t observing them, he didn’t notice the glances that Alby would cast at Newt every chance he gets. He was going to comment on it when the glimmer in his eyes wasn’t one of affection or love or any of the klunk that he notices in Gally or Thomas’ eyes when they look at each other, it was the glimmer that he saw in Teresa’s eyes whenever Gally and Thomas has one of their fights.

It's been an hour since they started and it was the nth time that Minho stepped on Alby's toes when Alby told him to stop. Newt was cackling (giggling) near the speakers. Alby was looking at him sheepishly. "Let's take a break." Alby told him, walking over to the side. "3 minutes."

Minho sighed and sat down on the chair next to Newt. The shank was too amused in this, why couldn’t he just go away, so Minho can embarrass himself without any witnesses other than Alby? "Don't you have anything better to do?" Minho glared at the blonde who had calmed down from his giggle fit. Newt looked like he was going to have another one. 

Newt turned towards him, smirking. "I've got to be honest; living in the palace hasn't been as entertaining as I thought it'd be." Newt told him, "I've been looking for entertainment, and watching you try to dance is the most fun I've had since I got here."

Minho scowled at him, his eyes narrowing. "Have you ever been called a dick?" Minho asked, stopping himself from using the Glade slang that he's always used to using. Newt only smirked, Minho wanted to wipe it off his face. He wasn't sure how though.

"Not to my face, no." Newt shrugged, unfazed by the insult. "You'd be the first."

"Dick." Minho said with as much venom he could muster.

Alby was back to standing in the middle of the studio, clapping his hands, calling Minho back. "Go on, dance. Pretend I'm not here laughing."

* * *

Alby was still teaching him the waltz which was really, an easy dance but it seemed Minho's feet were asleep and detested instructions today. Alby huffed before telling Minho to stop once again. He turned towards Newt who looked far too amused for Minho’s liking but it slowly disappeared when he caught Alby looking at him. "Newt, I need you." Alby said, pulling his best friend from the sideline. "Stand here." Alby instructed. "Minho, put your hand on his waist."

"What?" They both asked.

"Are you both deaf?" Alby tutted, "I said put your hand on his waist." Alby told Minho.

"Why does he have to be the boy?" Newt asked. "Why can't you be the one dancing with him anymore?"

"Because I have to teach him how to move as the lead." Alby said, rolling his eyes. "He has to learn how to lead," Alby told Newt, he rolled his eyes and clapped his hands together. "Now, Minho, hand on Izzy's waist."

"Oh stop embarrassing me, wanker." Newt said, a smile gracing his face momentarily. "Now, you heard your teacher, hand on my bloody waist." Newt smirked at Minho. Newt was looking at him expectantly and really, he was asking to be punched.

Alby rolled his eyes and grabbed Minho's hand and placed it on Newt's waist. "Alright, Newt, let Minho lead, alright?"


End file.
